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There was only one thing on Mike’s mind when he walked into his house after leaving the military base.
They regrouped with Robin, Lucas, and Murray, and decided to head to the Wheeler house since it was the closest- they needed to assess everyone’s injuries. He was dimly aware of Robin mentioning a nurse she knew who could help them out if anything was too bad.
In the back of his mind, Mike knew he should probably do something about his own injury, but there was only one thing he could focus on at the moment-
Other than his best friend’s newfound abilities.
The moment someone- he wasn’t sure who anymore- had brought up his house being close, it hit him like a ton of bricks. He had tried-really tried- to push it down and focus on the task at hand.
But he couldn’t, not anymore.
Not like he used to.
When they got through the front door, Mike made a beeline towards the stairs. He had to know. It had slipped his mind after the initial attack on his house, he was too focused on trying to save Holly and the other kids.
But now?
Now, it was all he could think about.
As he climbed the stairs to the second floor, he could hear someone calling his name. He ignored it. At this point he was practically running to his room.
When he made it to his destination he stopped in his tracks. He could only stand stunned in his doorway. He knew it would be bad, but he didn’t think it would be like this. He couldn’t even recognize his own room anymore. All the posters and figurines that he had meticulously placed to make his room his, all his comics he had spent hours reading and analyzing- they were all shredded or hidden in the wreckage.
Mike blinked and shook his head. He would address this loss at a later date. Probably.
He turned toward the desk at the side of his room and genuinely felt his knees go weak when he saw it was one of the only things still intact.
He started walking toward it slowly, heart pounding so hard he thought it might leap out of his chest.
He had to know.
He wouldn’t be able to keep going if he didn’t have an answer.
It was eating away at him from the inside out.
When Mike made it to his desk, he almost fell to his knees.
It was there. It was intact. There wasn’t a single scratch on it.
The painting- Will’s painting. The one he had given him in the back of the van, and he said all those things-
Things Mike would rather not think about, so he pushed them down into a box along with everything else.
The painting was okay. It was safe and it was here and it was all Mike could do not to weep. He picked it up with gentle fingers, like all it would take is one wrong touch and it would crumble in his hands. He closed his eyes.
He was supposed to have framed it by now. It had been sitting on his desks for months. Every night he walked into his room and scolded himself for not making time to buy a frame for it.
Mike had never been more thankful for forgetting anything in his life. If he had framed it, he would have hung it on his wall. The spot he had picked was destroyed and broken and if the painting had there it would have met the exact same fate-
“Mike?”
Will.
His eyes shot open. He hadn’t even heard footsteps.
“Mike, are you okay? You just kind of..ran off. Lucas called after you and you didn’t even say anything back.”
Mike turned- and there Will was, standing in the doorway, worried expression on his face. Mike just stared at the other boy, painting still in his hands.
Will glanced down at the painting and his eyes shot back up to Mikes, widening in the process.
“I-”
“Why did you do it?”
Will had tried to speak, but Mike cut him off, voice barely above a whisper.
Will swallowed, searching Mike's eyes for the meaning behind his words. “I don’t- why did I do what?”
“You lied.” Mike pressed his lips into a thin line after he said it. He wasn’t supposed to be asking these questions. This conversation wasn’t supposed to happen. It had to stop. It needed to stop. Mike couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t bear the box opening. He had pushed it all down, swallowed it so deep in him. It wasn’t supposed to come back out, especially not like this.
He just couldn’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.
Will just stared, dumbfounded and mouth agape, trying to come up with a response.
Mike looked down at the painting still in his grasp.
“You told me-” He swallowed before continuing, “You told me El had commissioned this painting- that she had asked you to make it for me.”
Mike remembered it vividly, that moment in the van.
He also remembered El’s last letter, where she said Will was making a painting
A painting he wouldn’t let anyone see.
A painting for someone- a girl.
A girl he liked.
But here Mike stood, in his bedroom, in front of Will, with a painting clutched in his hands.
A painting Will had made. For him.
Not for a girl. For Mike.
Mike brought his eyes back up to Will’s. Will took a step forward.
“But that’s not true, is it?”
Will stopped in his tracks. “Mike-” He looked at Mike with a pleading look on his face, like he was begging him to stop this before it went too far and he said something he would regret.
Mike didn’t move, didn’t blink, just stared at Will expectantly. He would stand there till the end of time, just the two of them, toeing a line that would change everything if they crossed it. He would stay there till he knew the truth.
“Mike I didn’t lie-”
“But you did.” Mike’s voice rose slightly and Will took another step closer, grimacing.
“You gave me this-” Mike gestured at the painting. He felt like he was losing his mind. “And you told me El had asked you to make it for me. And you said all those things about her needing me and me being the heart-” His voice wavered. “But I asked her about the painting and she had no idea what the hell I was talking about. She had never seen it.”
Will stepped closer at that, brows furrowing in anger. There wasn’t much space between them anymore. Mike lowered the painting to his side.
“Okay fine. I lied about the painting being from El, but everything else I said? About you being the heart? That was the truth. All of it.”
“But-” Mike started to speak, but Will cut him off.
“It was the truth, Mike. They just weren’t El’s words. They were mine.”
Mike froze. He never thought- never even entertained the idea- that it could have been Will’s words.
Never imagined it. That Will needed him. That he might think of himself as a mistake-
He couldn’t even believe it now that he knows. Mike wasn’t even mad anymore, just tired.
Tired of pretending he didn’t see these signals.
“Will, you aren’t a mistake.”
Will scoffed, “That’s your focus right now? Not that I lied to you? Not that I kept this a secret from you for months?”
“Yes, it is. You aren’t a mistake, Will.” Mike’s voice was barely above a whisper again, but it was firm, like he was stating a fact.
“God, Mike,” Will's eyes darted around the room and his voice shook. “If you knew that- fuck- you wouldn’t feel that way-”
“If I knew what?” Mike’s voice was urgent.
Will met his eyes again and was surprised by the intensity he saw in them- and the complete and utter fear in them too.
“If I knew what, WIll?” Mike repeated again, this time leaning closer to Will as he said it.
Will squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t- it would ruin everything- you don’t understand-”
“Help me understand. Please. Will-” Mike searched Will’s eyes for something. A hint of a confirmation. “I need to know I'm not wrong about this.” He could barely get the words out.
It had eaten away at him for years. Tore him up from the inside out. Made his edges sharp and his armor unbreakable.
Till it started to crack and fall away.
It started that summer before the Byer’s moved to Lenora. He had been dating El, but everything he had ever felt for Will had come crashing down on him.
He didn’t want to believe it, it was wrong. He felt dirty, and unclean. Will was his best friend.
He didn’t- he couldn’t- believe that he felt the way he did.
That somehow he had fallen in love with his best friend.
That he had been in love with him for as long as he could remember.
Mike knew it wasn’t right. He knew he shouldn’t feel that way. But how could something that felt so right, so natural, be so wrong?
He had pushed it down and prayed that it would go away, but it never did. It only grew.
And now, here he was, standing so close to Will he could feel his breath, and he might finally know the answer to the question he had turned in his head for years.
He might finally know if WIll felt the same.
“What?” Will whispered.
Mike could feel his throat closing up, but he forced the words out of him.
“Tell me I'm not wrong about this. Tell me I haven’t misread signals for the past year and a half. Tell me this is real.”
Will couldn’t move. He couldn’t blink. All he could do was shake his head and mumble a weak “I don’t understand-”
Before he was cut off by Mike surging forward and kissing him.
It was quick, barely even a kiss, really, but it took every bit of bravery Mike had to do it. He drew back and just looked at Will. Waiting for him to say something, to do something. But all Will could do was stare wide eyed.
“Are you- is this real? Mike- I- oh my God.” It was all Will could manage to get out.
Something in Mike’s expression shifted. He remembered what he had said the day prior.
I don’t want to have any regrets.
No regrets. Mike knew what he had to do. What he needed to do.
“Mike.” Will’s tone was urgent, begging Mike to say or do something.
“I love you.”
Mike went quiet, letting his words hang between them. He wanted Will to hear them, to understand. He wanted his words to soak into Will’s skin and make a home in his bones, fusing to the marrow. He wanted them to wrap around Will’s heart and take over so he could feel them with every beat and pump of blood and know deep in him that Mike was in love with him.
“I’ve loved you my whole life. It’s always been you. You were always going to be the one for me, Will, and I am so sorry that I made you think otherwise.”
Will sucked in a breath and Mike faltered, but pressed on with his confession. He could feel tears welling up behind his eyes like pools of acid.
“I was scared. I was so fucking scared, Will. I was scared for so long that I let myself treat you like garbage to try and hide it. God, I am so sorry.”
Will looked like he wanted to speak but Mike didn’t think he could bear to hear what he had to say yet, so he kept going.
“You are not a mistake. I need you to understand that. You are not a mistake and there is nothing you could possibly do to make me think you are and I mean that. I will say it to you every day until you get it through your head that you are not a mistake and that you deserve so much more than what this world has given you. You deserve better than this. You deserve better than me.”
At some point, Will has started crying. At some point the vat of acid behind Mike’s eyes had spilled and his cheeks burned with the weight of every fear and feeling he had pushed down for so long. Mike stepped even closer to Will. They were so close that when Will opened his mouth to speak, Mike could feel his breath.
“No, let me finish. I’m not done. You deserve better than what I could ever give you, but I will work my ass off every day to be something you deserve. I’d give you the whole damn world on a silver platter if you wanted it and I need you to understand that, Will.”
“I love you and I don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks because something that feels like this could never be wrong.”
Mike felt hollow. Will was just staring at him with a dazed expression. He wanted him to say something. He didn’t care if Will opened his mouth and called him disgusting and perverted.
Anything was better than the agony of not knowing.
Will’s expression shifted slightly, and he gave Mike a weak smile.
“I love you, too.”
Mike blinked and his mouth opened slightly.
“I’m sorry for lying to you about the painting, Mike. I never thought you would ever feel the same way about me that I feel about you. Clearly, I was wrong.”
They both laughed at that. It felt silly now. All the dramatics and the waiting. It was so obvious that they loved each other. They let their fears cloud their vision so much that they couldn’t see what was right in front of them.
Mike reached up and wiped the tears from Will’s cheeks. He let his hand rest there, rubbing his thumb over WIll’s cheek.
Mike kissed him again. The kiss was soft and filled with all the years Mike and Will had spent loving each other.
Mike brought his other hand up to the other side of Will’s face. Will rested one hand on the side of Mike’s neck and let the other tangle in his hair.
Will smiled into the kiss and the two broke apart.
“I can’t believe this is real” Will breathed out.
Mike kissed him again. The kiss was not as soft this time. Mike felt giddy and love-drunk off the prospect of kissing the boy he had loved for so long. He dropped a hand down to Will’s hip. Will tugged slightly at Mike’s hair in response, earning a soft groan out of him.
Mike turned them to the side, stepping forward till Will’s back hit the desk.
Mike thought he could stay like this forever. Unfortunately, humans needed oxygen to stay breathing.
The two broke apart gasping. Their lips were kiss-bruised and their eyes were glazed over. Will rested his forehead against Mike’s and shut his eyes. All Mike could do was look at the boy in front of him.
Mike broke from his stupor and whispered a soft, “I love you,” causing Will to open his eyes.
“You’ve said that a lot today”
“And I'll keep saying it till I die”
Mike wanted to live in their bubble forever and forget about the outside world and what was waiting downstairs for them. He didn’t get that lucky.
The sound of footsteps in the hall broke them out of their spell, and the two boys quickly disentangled themselves and Mike stepped a respective distance away while Will stayed leaning against the desk.
Mike was strongly aware of how much he already missed the touch of Will’s skin.
He felt the back of his foot touch something, and looked down to see the painting on the floor behind him right as Lucas appeared in the hallway.
“Hey, you guys alright? We need your help to plan the next move.”
“Yeah, yeah we’re good,” Will spoke. “We’ll be down in a second”
Lucas flashed a thumbs up and departed from the room. Mike leaned down and picked up the painting. He set it on his bed and met Will in the center of the room.
They said nothing. Mike interlaced his pinky with Will’s as they walked out the door.
No one who walks into that room will know what happened that night. At least, not for a while. But they will look around at the drawings and pieces and they will know that Mike Wheeler is in love with Will Byers, and they will understand that nothing they could have ever said or done would have stopped the avalanche.
They will understand that absolutely nothing could ever force those boys away from each other.
No matter how hard fate tries, in the end it will always fail.